


what the hell did we do? (tell me we'll make it through)

by rojorese



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Mentioned Lee Taeyong, Mentioned Mark Lee (NCT), Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29604252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rojorese/pseuds/rojorese
Summary: Maybe because he’s Jaemin, oh so lovely Jaemin, with a smile so bright Jisung can't help but surrender and accept that he's a goner. Oh he's a goner.Maybe it’s because he’s always been in love with Jaemin or was meant to be in love with him right from the start. Maybe he had been ready to hold his hand before he had the chance to think about it; to kiss him back, open his doors for him, to be loved by him and to love him back.Or: Jaemin makes love easy for Jisung.
Relationships: Na Jaemin/Park Jisung
Comments: 7
Kudos: 109
Collections: Challenge #5 — I heard a secret..





	what the hell did we do? (tell me we'll make it through)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Troye Sivan's "Easy". Please listen to it when you get the chance <33

“Okay?” 

Pink lips hover over Jisung’s pulse, hot breath ghosting over the skin of his wrist. He shudders, his own face flush. It’s something Jaemin always does, something Jisung himself _believes_ Jaemin needs. To hold the younger close, touch him, map his outline with his fingers, feel the solidity of Jisung’s body against his own. Warm. Close.

_Home._

Jisung knows it’s the older boy’s way of feeling in control. Because funny enough, being an idol rids you of almost every power you have over your life, even love. He knows Jaemin hates it— not being in control of his own love. He knows Jaemin wants to feel like their relationship is in his hands and in not the world’s. To be able to love Jisung over the hush of the night, over the unending whispers of “I love you’s”, over the filtered words and hidden smiles and the secrecy of his hand on his.

So in the cold of the night, Jisung allows him, because he hates it just as much.

It should be stupid, what this is. They both know this is the last thing they should be pursuing. _Falling in love_ is the last thing they should be thinking of. Not now, at least. Same group relationships are generally frowned upon by the industry. It's incredibly risky, and you'll end up ruining your own relationship of fear before the world finds out about it on its own.

And Jisung— Jisung has seen it first hand; has watched relationships around him be ruined— the bravest most beautiful ones. He has witnessed his Mark and Taeyong hyung's love crumble. Slowly, like watching a fire burn out before his eyes, ashes prancing around with the wind. Painful. _Gone_. He watches as Mark looks more and more restless each day, the usual glint in his eyes gone, the sound of genuine glee in his laughs dwindling. His Taeyong hyung, on the other hand, looks surprisingly okay, yet Jisung believes it doesn’t take much to notice the way he looks at his ex lover, eyes brimming with adoration, pain and _longing_.

The world takes their love away from them and Jisung watches, painfully, as he fears for his own.

So it should be stupid-- Jaemin’s lips on skin; Jisung on his lap, indulging him. The former plants small kisses on his wrist, creeping up, lips tracing outlines on his skin. Gingerly, like Jisung is the most delicate thing in the world. It almost feels like he's worshipping that his breath trembles, a poor thing. Jaemin's love language has always been touching, and as much as the younger despises it— the feeling of vulnerability, of having someone touch his body and read him, he allows him. Because if there's one thing Jisung has learned about Jaemin, it's that he makes everything easy.

It had been easy to accept his hand that day, to kiss him back when the older boy kisses him on the lips after a whispered declaration of love: "I like you, Jisung. Push me if you don't feel the same." Under the moonlight, with the buzzing of the crowd just outside the door, inside the room Jaemin had dragged him in suddenly. He remembers himself complaining about the taste of champagne on the boy's lips afterwards, with a blush on his cheeks and a twist on the lips. Jaemin's expression had shifted, lips slowly curling into a tentative smile as he scanned for rejection on Jisung's face: _none_. And Jisung had wondered why his initial reaction wasn't of fear.

It had been easy to let him in, to accept him and to let him stay.

Maybe because he’s Jaemin, oh so lovely Jaemin, with a smile so bright the younger can't help but surrender and accept that he's a goner. Oh he's a _goner_. Or maybe it’s because Jisung is just Jisung. Young— stands on the earth with unwavering innocence; weak, always been easy to crack, always easy to give in.

Maybe it’s because he’s always been in love with Jaemin— or was meant to be in love with him right from the start. Maybe he had been ready to hold his hand before he had the chance to think about it; to kiss him back, open his doors for him, to be loved by him and _to love him back_.

Jisung feels a pair of wet lips on his forehead, the loud smack resonating in the room. He closes his eyes. It's a matter of habit by now.

"What's going on in that big head of yours?"

Jisung hums in lieu of replying. He winces at the patch of wetness on his forehead and proceeds to wipe it with the back of his hand. Again, a matter of habit. The black haired male lets out an exaggerated gasp at this, now more focused on Jisung's action than the original topic at hand—Rejection, as he likes to argue when he catches the younger doing this. But they've gone through this a hundred times that Jisung only rolls his eyes at him. "Nothing," He then says, nervous that Jaemin is still going to push it.

And Jaemin does look like he wants to. He wears this same expression on his face when he wants to ask but is worried to be too much, like he's scared he'll withdraw once he says something wrong. His younger lover tends to retreat back to his shell when things go unusual for him; to shut the doors and crawl back to his own pocket of space, flushing the world down his brain. Jisung admits he's always been hard to deal with, confrontations especially, and he appreciates the amount of consideration the older lover puts in their dynamic.

But that doesn't mean Jisung doesn't try for him too. He laughs lightheartedly and leans in to rest his forehead on his boyfriend's clavicle. He inhales, deeply, like Jaemin's scent is going to give him courage. It does. The fresh scent of fabric softener on his white shirt is comforting in so many ways. "You," He says, and proceeds with "I'm thinking of you, I mean." before regret even starts creeping in.

He feels Jaemin's shoulders vibrate when he laughs. "Me? You're thinking of me?" He asks with a tinge of playfulness in his tone and Jisung regrets— Of course, he regrets—as he buries his face on the crook of the older male's neck. It's a poor attempt to hide; Jaemin reads him well anyway. "When I'm here with you?"

Jisung grunts. "Shut up before I leave you and go back to my room" It's a lie. He's very much warm perched on Jaemin's lap.

The older male laughs annoyingly harder, and Jisung huffs exasperatedly. "Hyung." They've probably woken up Renjun in the other room now, and he cringes thinking of the possible consequence of this later at the breakfast table. God knows how many times Renjun has complained about how many times he's woken up by the two flirting in the other room and how many times he's asked Jaemin to give his roommate back. "Can you stop making fun of me now?" He demands.

"Oh Jisungie. Hyung is not making fun of you."

"Yeah. Like the use of third person doesn't prove my point further," Jisung sneers.

"That's not a very nice way to talk to your hyung," Jaemin reprimands. The fond chuckle that escapes his chest betrays him anyway. Jisung, ever a petulant brat, rolls his eyes at this.

A long pause. Jisung sighs. "I think of you," He mutters under his breath. When Jaemin doesn't say anything, he continues. "Always," He says in the faintest voice that he thinks even the wind wouldn't catch on. By the way the black haired male freezes, Jisung thinks he did. "Can we please change topic now?" He imagines the stupid look on his boyfriend's face after he says this: a triumphant smile etched on his face like he's won a debate. It's rare for Jisung to repeat words like these after all.

He feels careful hands pressed on each of his shoulders, nudging him slightly. He contemplates moving for a moment until Jaemin calls him by his full name. _What now?_ He huffs, leans back to look at the other and is stunned by what greets him.

Jaemin is _blushing_.

"Are you aware of how unbelievably cute you get sometimes?" The black haired male tells him. Jisung is lost for a moment, his heartbeat racing at the sight before him. _He could say the same to him._ But instead he settles for a smile, coy. "Maybe," He replies playfully and Jaemin absolutely scoffs at this. "Be thankful you're cute," He says before attacking Jisung with tickles on his waist.

Jisung wriggles on his lap as he giggles like a child, gummy smile showing. "You flatter me, hyung," He tells him.

Jaemin smiles fondly at him. He feels a hand leave his waist, lifting to rake through the younger's hair instead. "Silly boy. It's true."

Jisung relaxes on the feeling, suddenly aware of how sleepy he is. "M'okay," He mumbles, and Jaemin's smile grows wider.

This is stupid, Jisung thinks, but nice, and he uses the silence to notice how the black haired male looks in front of him. His hair is disheveled, yet the strands oddly settle on all the right places; His lips are paler than usual which, the younger guesses, are from the schedules storming in from left to right. Jisung's heart constricts in his chest, the usual feeling he gets when he's reminded he can't be there to tend to his boyfriend with his current situation. Being injured is one thing, but this— this absolutely pains him. Jaemin looks _restless_.

But he pulls it off somehow, and Jisung believes there's nothing that makes Jaemin look any less _magical._ He looks pretty under the moonlight; with the shadows framing his face in all the right angles, his freshly dyed black hair highlighting his features even more. He loves him most like this: Raw and unfiltered— so familiar in the younger's eyes.

"But I really am thinking of you, hyung." 

Jaemin freezes for the second time tonight. Jisung witnesses the corner of his lips lift. "What about me?" He asks, hand moving to caress the younger's back.

Jisung likes to tiptoe around being vocal about his feelings. It's a field he's never been particularly good at. He dislikes it: the inescapable vulnerability that comes with it. But right now, Jisung sees the way Jaemin looks at him and he thinks— he believes— that there's something about the wee hours that gives him some sense of courage. Something inside his chest comes to light: something raw, honest, _unguarded_.

"That you make it easy."

Jaemin's eyebrows knit in confusion. "What is?"

"Love," Jisung answers.

_Oh the fragility._

Jaemin reacts differently this time. His smile is gone but his eyes are beaming. Something Jisung could only translate as pure love and adoration. "Jisung I—" He stumbles with his words for a moment, then picks himself up again. "Can I kiss you?"

The question catches Jisung off guard that his breath hitches. Regardless, he curtly nods, fingers tightening on Jaemin's shoulders. The latter inches his face slowly, and Jisung takes some time to watch his eyelashes flutter close before he closes his own eyes.

Jaemin kisses like he has all the time in the world.

Jisung is _warm._

It's mesmerizing, how Jaemin's lips move against his— carefully, slowly, like he's afraid he'll break him. His kisses are warm, enveloping him like a blanket, comforting in so many ways he can't explain. It's addicting— Jaemin is addicting, the way he's licking at the seam of Jisung's lips to coax them open. It's amazing how the younger immediately obliges and lets him take the lead, how comfortable he makes him feel being under his control like this. He feels a hand angle his head, the kiss deepens and Jisung is _helpless_ : arms limp that a hand falls to fist on the end of the older male's shirt. He takes this chance to memorize him, embed the taste of his tongue and the softness of his lips inside his brain because he wants to remember this moment forever.

He's so close. _They're so close_ , feelings spilling and hearts touching and Jisung feels like he'll burst.

It's Jaemin who pulls their lips apart but stays close. Resting his forehead on Jisung's, he stares intently at his eyes. Jisung must be embarrassingly flushed right now; He giggles regardless. "What was that, hyung?"

"I want to marry you," Jaemin declares. "I want to live with you. I want to be with you forever," He says all in one breath, but Jisung's the one who feels like air has been knocked out of his lungs. "I want to show you to the world, Sung."

Jaemin's ability to say things like these so easily never ceases to surprise Jisung. It's the way he always sounds so certain, so confident that had been so foreign to him from the start. It has become a source of comfort for Jisung; how everything about the older male feels reassuring— incredibly reassuring. And without realizing, Jaemin has been a constant in his life, something he can hold on to when he feels like he's losing grip of everything, something to pull him back when he's gone too deep to be pulled back.

Jaemin is an epitome of reassurance, and the younger thinks there's nothing Jaemin can't make him do.

"Hyung I—," Jisung stammers. "I want that."

 _Or want_.

"Really?"

Because—

Jisung smiles. The edges of his eyes are warm. "I want what you want. I always want what you want."

It will be hard. It's already hard enough, and it'll be more difficult from here and _Jisung is_ _scared-_ \- so scared. A tear escapes his eye and he thinks, _what the hell have they done?_

"I'm here," Jaemin whispers.

 _But Jaemin is here_. Jaemin picks him up so quickly because he knows Jisung enough to know when he falls. Tonight feels like a promise. The solid warmth of his body, the hands caressing his cheeks, the lips kissing the tears away; They all feel like promises. _Jaemin himself feels like a promise._ Jaemin holds him like he's saying it will be okay, and that he will never let go.

Jisung smiles. He closes his eyes, and prepares himself to fall.

_Fuck the world._

"Lead the way, hyung."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Little Wonder for this wonderful theme.
> 
> When secrets won I really thought "This is it. I am writing for real!" and here it is! The theme is just so lovely I wanted to write it. This is my first time joining a fest (and posting a written work in general). This was very fun to write despite having to stay up unholy hours of the night to write, but anything for jaemsung amiright <333


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